I'll be seeing you"
by Adeline
Summary: The world gets tough for the gang... (Edited by Tennant Stuart)


"I'll be seeing you" by Adeline ([gossy@infonie.fr][1]) 

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DISCLAIMER: They aren't mine! None of 'em. Nu-uh. Not even an inch of them, squat. So, *obviously*, I'm only doing this for entertainment purposes (and also 'cause I've wanted to for months and it's driving me nuts! g) and am not making a dime from this, let alone big bucks. Used songs don't belong to me either. 'Tis just another brick in the fan fiction wall... :)

Rated _PG-13_ for deaths of major characters and the odd curse word.

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KLEENEX ALERT! The most sensitive of you might need a couple tissues if you're going to read this all the way through. This is slightly depressing and *_not_* a comedy. You have been warned. :) 

Also, please don't kill me. g

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AUTHOR'S NOTES (1): 

Okay, first off, if you've read Fatherhood (thanks to everyone who reviewed, btw :)), this has nothing to do with it. That had a happy ending and is done and over with. This is definitely not a continuation of it. 

Secondly, I know a lot of this is imprecise, but I couldn't be bothered to do research – it's a wonder I even found time to sit and write the fic g! Also, the whole idea is quite unrealistic, but if you have some imagination, I'm sure it won't bother you so much. Ross sure would dismiss this as technically thoroughly very highly improbable to happen in real life. Okay Ross, how's the museum? Jeez... g Also, my apologies to any New York state inhabitant for butchering your home state, which I am sure is very nice and, um, more innocent-friendly. More notes at the end, 'cause I didn't want to give away the whole story just now. :)

Last but certainly not least, I would like to extend my unending thanks to my wonderful editor Tennant Stuart - you're the best! :)

"Enjoy," if I may say so... ;)

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PART 1...

~

Ross Geller drove into the building's parking lot, and parked his car in a neat spot close to the gate. "Are you sure you want to do this?", he asked.

"Yes", replied his younger sister Monica, "I am sure, Ross."

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "You gonna be okay?"

"Hope so."

Ross unfastened his seat belt. Monica had not bothered to fasten hers in the first place.

"Ok, let's go."

He got out of the car, and walked over to Monica's side.

"Come on."

She got out, and they made their way to the gate. A few feet above, a large sign read 'NEW YORK STATE DEPARTMENT OF CORRECTIONS. Visiting Hours 9am - 5pm'. Monica absent-mindedly checked her watch. 3:42. It had been a long drive, all the way up from the city.

"Monica Bing" she announced, to the guard who lifted the barrier...

~

"Bing!"

Chandler leapt up into a sitting position, startled. He'd had one of those dreams again. Nightmares.

"Bing!!", repeated the gruff male voice out on the landing, "Yer little wifey is here!"

Chandler rubbed his eyes, and got up from... well, he couldn't really call it a bed, could he?

The warder dragged his feet to Chandler's gloomy cell, and slid the door open. "Come on."

The prisoner slowly walked to the door, and a ray of light washing through the bars of the tiny window lit his now saturnine face. His short stubble made him look ten years older than he was, his hair was a mess, the eyes bloodshot - from fatigue, from insomnia... from crying.

~

"Hey..."

Chandler pulled up a chair, and sat behind the Plexiglass window that separated him from Monica.

"Hi", he said awkwardly. He hated for her to see him like that. He hated having to wear those ridiculous orange suits. Like wearing regular clothes would make him want to escape any more, or try to kill himself. What difference did it make? He was there to die anyway. Some time or other the day would come when he'd lie down, and never get back up again. His only wish would have been for Monica to go first, so he would be the one to bear the loss & cross of his undying love. But now he knew she wouldn't be first. He would, and that was irrevocable. Not one glimmer of hope.

"How you holding up?" she asked kindly.

"Well...you know, as bad as it gets", he admitted, "but otherwise I guess I'm okay."

Monica, her eyes watering, placed her hand against the glass, and Chandler hesitantly put his right in front, where their hands would touch if it weren't for that fucking glass, and all it represented.

"Having those dreams again, huh?"

"Yeah." He looked down, and paused before looking up again. He didn't want to talk about those right now. "And I miss you guys."

"We miss you too."

"I miss Joey. I miss you."

"I miss you."

Their eyes locked for a few seconds, which their silence turned into years. They didn't need to talk, for their eyes conveyed emotion straight from their wounded hearts. He saw the fear in her eyes, the woe in her eyes, and the distress in her eyes - but she saw only love in his. Love & strength. For a moment she even thought she saw a smile.

"It's good seeing you." He did manage a somewhat feeble smile, but Monica didn't see any of that, for she was looking down, as if to hide something. That didn't last long, for she gathered the courage to look at him straight, and tell him her news. News she'd been waiting for her whole life, but bad news nevertheless to come at this point in time.

"Chandler, I..." She had trouble finding her words. Funny how the few life-changing words are always the hardest to say. "Remember the last night before the trial, they let you see me and..."

He nodded. "I remember."

"And..."

"And you're pregnant." It was more of a statement than a question, and he spoke it softly, with just an ounce of bitterness.

She replied barely above a whisper. "Yes... I'm sorry."

Chandler's hand dropped from the glass as he briefly looked away to hide his eyes, for he could feel tears welling up. As soon as he could, he turned back to her, and asked evenly, "what are you going to do?"

She took in a deep breath, and spoke calmly, "I am going to have it."

"So I see the decision's already made?" He wasn't angry, merely disarmed.

"I've wanted a child my whole life, Chand-"

"And I've wanted a *family*!", he interrupted angrily, "and I've wanted it with you... I've wanted to see my children being born, and I've wanted to be there for them whenever they needed me, and even when they didn't!" He paused. The silence was awkward. Monica didn't know what to say.

She comprehended his words that were tearing her apart, but nothing could stop her from having this child, not even him, no matter how much she loved him. He started again, calmer, holding her wet gaze, and reaching for the glass again. "You realize that I'm not gonna be? I'm not gonna be there when- when you give birth, when our child takes its first steps or speaks its first words... I - I'm gonna be dead, Mon."

Again, she was at a loss for words. He continued, "do you ever think about the future, Monica? 'Cause I do. It's all I ever do here." He chuckled feebly as if to cheer himself up, "I see Phoebe on Broadway... I see Ross & Rachel, married with a bunch of kids..." Monica looked at him with bloodshot eyes, the tears she was trying to hold back showing even so. He just kept holding her gaze, and went on, "and then I see you, with another man maybe. Without me... Me, I - I'm nowhere to be seen. I'm just pictures in a frame here & there in your apartment." She kept silent as a tear rolled down her cheek. He looked down awkwardly, and looked back up again. "You'll be happy, Monica, I know you will. You just wait for the one that you will grow old with... Have his family."

She slowly shook her head in disagreement, and spoke softly. "No. No, I won't be happy Chandler, and I won't find anybody else to love as much as I love you... I mean, what will become of me when you're gone?" She looked down, and started crying once more. "How... How am I even gonna get up in the morning when I don't have you to wake up to?"

He watched her cry, and that sight tore him apart. He was dying just to go over and hold her and rock her softly till she was okay again. He wished he could tell her everything was alright. Oh, how he wished he could! But things were not alright, and all he could do for the time being was to talk, through that goddamn glass, which his hand was now up against. "Shhh... you're gonna be fine..."

"No!", came her angry response. "No... I'm not. Fine, is seeing you smile every time I walk in the room, or - or falling asleep with your arms around me. Fine, is - ". She could go on for hours but she knew that hearing this hurt him just as much as it hurt her. "The closest thing to fine is... It's that little baby growing in me, Chandler." She attempted a small smile, "so I carry a little of you everywhere I go..." He saw as she spoke just how much she wanted his child, and it pained him to see how anyone could love him so much. So he didn't try to argue. "There's no changing your mind, huh?" She shook her head, and whispered softly, "no. This is the last I will have of you."

"Okay."

They fell silent again, and looked in each other's eyes. They both managed feeble smiles, until a hoarse voice cut through the intimacy of the moment. Chandler had to leave to go back to his cell. As the warder pulled him away, Chandler shouted "Name her Brittany!" so he was grabbed, and pushed towards the exit. "I love you", he called out, and he managed one final look at her over his shoulder.

~

"I love you too, Chandler." Monica stayed there a few minutes after he was gone. She just sat in silence, thinking about everything that was said, and how painfully true it all was. How fucked up justice really was. And then she just stopped thinking. In only a few weeks it would all be over. She just collapsed into tears, and wept uncontrollably, for how long she didn't know. But she had to get through this, she *had* to get through this!

It was only when she felt a strong hand grab her shoulder that she noticed she'd been shivering the whole time. "Hey", said Ross as he crouched to her level, and gently stroked her tear-stained cheek. "You alright?"

"No." She buried her face in her big brother's chest, and sobbed quietly. No, she wasn't alright, okay, or whatever expression people could come up with that would imply she could manage on her own. And although she knew she would have to be strong, she didn't know if she ever could.

Ross kept whispering soothing words, while patting her back to help stop her shivering. From the looks of it, whatever conversation had taken place between his little sister & Chandler, it had left her in a shambles, so he decided not to ask any questions, she was already down enough. He was simply her big brother, and understood, sharing her pain as best as he could to take part of the burden off her frail shoulders.

The clock was now getting closer to five, and Ross decided it would be a good thing to drive back home. He kissed the top of Monica's head to get her attention. "Wanna go home?" She silently nodded, and they went.

~

Phoebe walked into the cemetery, fighting the strong, chilly fall wind. It would start snowing in just a few days, she could feel it. Finding the tombstone wasn't hard, seeing as quite a few people, mostly teenage girls, kept coming & going, to & fro, in silence. It was buried in flowers & letters.

"Hi Joey...", she started, trying not to let emotion flow over her. "I came by to, you know, say goodbye. I never really got a chance with all that news coverage, and - the fans. And the fans, and - well, the fans. You... you would be proud, Joe." She sniffed. "Wait, wait a second." She took a handkerchief from her pocket, and started once more. "There... So, I wrote you a little song", she said holding up a folded piece of paper, as if he could see it from his grave. "But I... I don't think I'll be able to sing it for decades, so-" She placed the paper on top of the stone. "You can read it when you get the time..." She paused & looked up as if to avoid any eyes staring at her as she spoke, "I miss you Joey Tribbiani. Come visit, okay? And, and when that jerk who took you away shows up, you kick his ass, Joe!"

~

Rachel was finishing packing her stuff from what had been her & Joey's apartment for years. Everything seemed so empty now. She couldn't believe he still lived there a little over three months before. Things had gone so fast. One morning she got a call that she would never have expected. Joey was dead, murdered at the studio. Telling the others was just the hardest thing she had ever had to do, and they all were deeply shocked...

Chandler hadn't come home until the wee small hours that night. His father had just died from AIDS in hospital, and Rachel believed her friend's story that he'd taken a long walk along the Hudson, since although the old queen had never been much of a dad to him, he was his father nonetheless, and there was some kind of pain in seeing him fade & go that Chandler said he couldn't quite explain. Rachel supposed he regretted not having known his father better, not having sought to know him years after he left home, not having forgiven him before it was too late, and even though he wasn't sure, he needed that time alone. Unfortunately, in police mentality 'alone' meant 'no alibi', and at 2am the banks of the Hudson are not exactly crowded, so soon the cops had hooked him for Joey's murder. Utter nonsense, that's what it was! None of the gang had ever thought it would go as far as a trial, let alone Death Row. But lo & behold, that's where Chandler was. Joey had been killed, and his killer was still on the loose. Now he was gonna take another of her friends. It sounded like a story you would read on the papers, and think it was made up just to sell more. But the situation here was as real as it got. Things couldn't get worse. But then they wouldn't be getting better either. Not one glimmer of hope.

Rachel sank in a chair, Joey's recliner, and collapsed in tears. Why, was the question flashing in her head every five seconds. Why kill Joey? Why convict Chandler? Why sentence anyone to the death penalty? And why did she fear losing all hope on life so much?

~

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Tell all my friends I have gone to the moon

Tell all my friends I will write them soon

And tell them, if you see them, that I am better left alone...

Cos I'm living up here where the air is thin,

Where gravity don't bring you down

I'm living up here, and I'm watching your

Universe, cooling down.

(--_2nd Law,_ Tom McRae)

~

One Month Later...

~

"How did you get in here?"

"Well... I sneaked past that keeper guy and, those guys probably never made it to high school, y'know. They just don't check IDs", Phoebe told Chandler matter-of-factly.

Chandler couldn't see how what she said was possible, but he knew Phoebe, and he didn't argue. "Well, thanks for coming."

"Of course... So? How are you in there?"

"Can't say life's a bed of roses", Chandler replied gloomily.

"No, I meant, how are *you*?", she specified.

"What do you mean? The fact that I've never been so scared in my life?", he snapped. He'd been asked that very question so many times, and it always hit him hard. "That I have to live every day with knowing the end is getting closer by the minute?" So people wanted to know how he was. Didn't they know better than to ask? "Face myself knowing all I'll be leaving behind?..."

Phoebe looked down, kicking herself for asking that question.

"Sorry, I...", Chandler apologized, "I shouldn't have snapped at you. It's just... You know, I -"

"I know... I mean, I don't *know*, but I can imagine. And I do know what it's like to have your best friends murdered or sent to jail, and to miss them more every passing day", said Phoebe.

"Pheebs... in just a few months I will be gone, so can we talk about something a little happier? Please? How's everyone?"

"Well... Ross broke up with his girlfriend, but he doesn't seem to mind. Rachel moved back in with Monica-"

"Yeah?" This wasn't surprising news to Chandler, but it did a little something to him to know that Rachel had left his & Joey's apartment to go back to Monica's. He hadn't exactly expected either of them to keep living alone, but he felt as if it took a piece of him away from them. Never more would they go over across the hall to play a little foosball, or throw wet paper towels all over the place. But then, Chandler realized, they wouldn't really have done it either, had they decided to keep the apartment. Phoebe saw that thing in his eyes, and tried to draw his attention to another subject.

"And I got a record deal, yay!"

"You did?" It worked. "Way to go, congratulations!"

"Yeah! Well, it's nothing big yet, y'know. Just a couple of singles, then, *if* I sell well, then more. And I'll make sure I don't get screwed over like that one time 7 years ago, too!" At least, it *had* worked. For just a little over seven seconds. His thoughts had now drifted off again...

"And how's Monica doing?"

"Good", Phoebe replied. "She's seeing her OB/GYN today."

Chandler's face lit up at the comment, and the thought made him smile a little. "Oh yeah! How's the baby?"

Phoebe smiled in return. It made her happy to see that *something* was stirring his thoughts up a little. "Doing fine."

"Not giving Mon too hard a time, I hope."

"Well, you know, there's the morning sickness..."

And Chandler's mind wandered off yet again. He missed Monica. And he missed being there for her. He knew she had their friends, but *he* wasn't there, holding her hair back when she would need it, and just like today, he'd miss each & every sonogram. He'd miss seeing her belly grow bigger everyday, feeling their child under her skin whenever it would kick. He'd miss satisfying Monica's cravings in the middle of the night. In the middle of the day as well, for that matter...

"You take good care of them, okay?", He asked softly.

"Of course..."

~

"So? so? What is it?" Rachel dropped her magazine, and jumped up from the couch the second she heard Monica come in. "Tell me!"

"It's a girl", Monica smiled moderately at her best friend.

"Awww, just like you wanted!" Rachel cheered.

"Yeah, just like we wanted...", Monica replied, a hand on her belly.

Rachel immediately saw her thoughts were going to Chandler, and while that wasn't wrong as such, it would inevitably bring Monica down in a couple minutes if she let her, so she continued talking about the baby. "Oooh, what are you gonna name her??", she asked with an almost fake excitement.

"I don't know...", Monica hesitated. "Brittany?" That was the name Chandler mentioned, wasn't it?

"Oh yeah! As in... Britain, London... I see. That's cute", Rachel commented.

So that was why he'd proposed that name! After the place they first got together. The symbol of them as a couple. She had wondered, but now that Rachel had made the connection, it made perfect sense to Monica.

"Yeah..." Monica smiled, wistfully staring into thin air.

~

The weeks passed, and as Monica grew bigger, the 4-hour drives to the prison became more & more difficult. She had only been there 3 or 4 times since the day she'd told him about the baby. Partly because of her condition, sure, but mostly because it hurt them both a lot. An awful lot. And they knew it. It hurt them not to be around each other, but it hurt them more to see each other every now & then, and know those times wouldn't last more than a few minutes. The dark thoughts that lingered in their minds after each of their meetings quickly became more than they could take, but Monica had seldom thought about suicide. Chandler knew he was doomed, and saw no point in making his wife & friends suffer earlier than planned. That was the only reason he refused to cross the line. But Monica still thought about it at times. Of course with the baby, it was totally out of question... Or so she tried to make herself believe.

~

The holiday season was an awful period to go through, for both Chandler & Monica. He & the gang always spent Christmas at Monica's, it was like a tradition. Almost as if they were a family. They say you never know what you've got till it's gone, and "they're" right. Because they had been a family. Chandler's head filled with memories from the many previous Christmases that they'd all spent together, and each of those memories felt just like a stab in the heart. In the same exact place, over & over again, digging a painful hole that would never scar over. God, he missed them!

He vividly remembered that almost a year ago, on New Year's eve, he & Monica had wished for a child. How ironic! He wouldn't even get to touch or even see the face of the child he'd fathered, his own flesh & blood. But he loved it nevertheless, and that's what made the whole situation so painful to live. All day long, every day since Monica told him, he thought about it. How he longed to see it, to hold it in his arms against his chest, and sing it lullabies until it fell asleep, slowly closing its big beautiful blue eyes. And at the same time, he knew he just never would get a chance to do any of those things, but he just couldn't help it. He couldn't help seeing himself changing diapers, and getting up at night for those infamous 4am feeds.

It would have blue eyes. That was the one & only thing he would ever know about his own child. Where he was going, there were no telephones, and no kind of mail could be delivered to keep him updated. It was likely that he would never even know the sex of the baby. Let alone its favourite cartoon, color, or stuffed animal. No, he probably wouldn't even know so much as its name. Depressing, or what?

~

All that pretended joy & faked happiness around her made Monica feel sick. Masquerades! She often wondered what the pretence of enjoyment & light-heartedness brought to people, those put-on hypocritical smiles. For over a month it felt as though everyone acted like they couldn't care less for anything but themselves. To hell with permanent important issues, she could hear them say. Distant families would get together, and exchange cheap, insignificant gifts, only to fall out of touch again within weeks if not days. That was plain sickening!

She had no reason at all to feel merry, be it on Christmas day or whenever. In fact, she had every reason to mourn, and cry herself to sleep every single night. Nothing a stupid date on a stupid calendar was going to change any time soon. Having her friends over to celebrate a holiday she found no point in would have been too difficult. This year was nothing like any of the others, it was no use in pretending. One year ago, she had been a happy woman, just married to her best friend, the one person she was deeply convinced was her soul mate - if such things actually existed. And if they didn't, well, he was the closest thing to what those fictions portrayed. He made her feel complete, and that was all that mattered.

Today, she felt empty. Like every drop of life had been drained out of her body. That's only how she felt though, because inevitably she knew her body was carrying life, in the form of the little being she had so long hoped for.

She vividly remembered that almost a year ago, on New Year's Eve precisely, she & Chandler had wished for a baby. Well, they had got their wish! Only at the wrong time. Probably life's way of kicking you when you're down... Bitch.

It was hard to keep a straight face in front of her friends & family, and pretend she was fine, when the only thought on her mind was that she'd never felt so out of place. But she was expecting a child for Christ's sake! She was supposed to be happy, looking forward to the birth, making plans about a million irrelevant things that would seem so important to herself only. Instead, she was dreading that day, roughly five months from now, when she would have to be a mother. And who would have thought that Monica Geller Bing, of all people, would be dreading the birth of her first child? Yet she already loved her unborn baby, with all her heart. She just wished it could have stayed inside her forever, so that she could keep it to herself. Because she feared it would become a burden, the one thing holding her back in a life she didn't want to go on living. She didn't want it to be that. It's what it would, amongst other things, probably end up being to her, however. For many sleepless nights she had pondered over the best way to raise her in those conditions, but she had never found an answer to the misery she was in. If she had been able to pause her life, now would have been the one time she would have done it. But the truth was that she couldn't. So she told herself, albeit not quite believing it, that everything would change from the minute she saw the baby's face, and then everything would turn out fine...

~

More weeks passed, and Chandler's execution drew nearer by the day. Two months was the most he had to live. Not that he really minded. If death was going to solve the pain inside him, then it would be more than welcome. The sooner the better, he might even say. But it was Monica he was worried about. Phoebe, Rachel & Ross would take a blow as well, sure, but they were at least prepared, and, of course, not as involved with him as Monica was. They'd been great friends to him, undoubtedly the best one could hope for, but they would be able to go on with their lives after a few days' grieving. At least he thought they would. But Monica... Monica was a whole lot different. He knew just how much she loved him, he'd seen it before. And he also saw that deep down she was praying for a miracle, hanging onto the hope that something would happen that would set him free of all suspicion. But long ago he had accepted that nothing like that would ever happen. His death would very likely leave her crushed, destroyed. Lifeless. And that's what scared him the most, that she would do something stupid. And that he wouldn't be there to catch her if she fell. Her friends would take care of her, of that he had no doubt. But would she listen to them? Would she see the hands reaching out to her when she needed them the most?

And then there was his little baby - a girl, Ross had told him. He would never have the chance to see her grow, and he missed her already. Maybe there was a spot up there he could watch them from, lovingly, and silently. Also helplessly...

~

"February the fourteenth, of the year two thousand and two. Come see your husband, the father of your unborn child, being cold-bloodedly murdered in the name of law & so-called justice. Or not. Whatever. Not that we really care anyway. It will in fact be a good riddance."

The letter Monica received that day wasn't exactly worded like that, but it was just as if it was. So they "would be honored" to have her attend the "lawful execution" of her husband? Ha, honored, my ass, she thought. And "lawful"?? Who were they kidding? Of course, whoever dared to ask would be answered that a man's life was at stake - and nobody wants to 'kid', added a mocking mimic at that last word.

They had tried to fight during the trial, but the murderer had been careful. Not the slightest trace had been found on the crime scene. And though a few nurses should have been able to testify to Chandler's presence at Mount Sinai on the night of the crime, after one in the morning nobody had seen him. Coincidentally, Joey had finished shooting that day's episode at half past one. The advocate for the prosecution had been convincing. Way too convincing. Besides, the death of a celebrity meant that 'justice' had to be done, and quickly. Who can find a good lawyer in so short a time? What lawyer can defend an intricate case with such short notice? Justice? That court was stupid!

But as much as she hated it, she wanted to go. She wanted to be there, speak to him one last time, tell him she loved him, and always would. Look at him just one last time, and engrave those deep blue eyes of his in her memory. "Till death parts us", they'd told each other only a few months before, and sure as hell, she was going to be there till death parted them. She wouldn't miss it for the world, even if it meant suffering for months, maybe years, afterwards. Even if it meant never being able to look her own child in the eye. She was ready to walk down there if she had to. But she couldn't go alone.

~

The tears in Phoebe's eyes were welling up as she watched Chandler being escorted down the long corridor. Ross, an arm around his sister's shoulder, kept looking down with a sad smile on his face. Rachel was crying a river, covering her nose & mouth with a tissue.

Chandler had difficulty fighting back the tears while walking up to his friends. They were all there, he was touched. All but one, but maybe he'd see that one again in just a few minutes. Monica was there, trying to hide her emotions. Her belly was getting big, he noticed.

Looking into her husband's eyes, Monica was paralyzed. So that was it. The last time she would see him. Ever. And he'd never looked so beautiful to her. The violence of the feelings inside made her whole body ache, yet she showed no tears. The baby started kicking again, but she stood still. As he got closer, the guards took a few steps back to give them some privacy, and she tried to smile. "I'll miss you, you know." That smile faded as soon as it had appeared, as she saw him glare at her belly.

"Tell her I love her", he suddenly said. "Tell her that Daddy loves her...", he whispered again, before raising his hands to Monica's face. "And I love you", he breathed softly, looking her in the eyes. "I love you", he repeated. He saw she was about to cry, and hugged her close to him. "It'll be okay", he murmured in her ear, "it'll be okay..."

~

__

Heaven is a place nearby

So I won't be too far away

And if you keep looking out for me

Maybe you'll find me someday

Heaven is a place nearby

So there's no need to say goodbye

I won't ask you not to cry

I'll always be by your side.

(--_A place nearby_, Lene Marlin)

~

The ride home from the prison had been terrible for everyone. Not a word was exchanged. Phoebe kept her attention fixed on the road, feeling quite helpless alone in the front of the car. In the back, Ross & Rachel sat on either side of Monica, exchanging worried looks & occasionally patting her back supportively, but neither knowing what to say. There was just no stopping her crying. And it was Valentine's day! Of the 365 days of the year, 28 of the month, and 7 of the week, it had to happen today, of *course*. Well, maybe he was somewhere with Joey now, who could tell? He was probably relieved, he was free now. But was "he" still there? Was there still more to him than a jar of ashes in the trunk of their car? Maybe she'd find out soon...

~

"Monica, you haven't spoken a word all afternoon, you gonna be okay?", Rachel inquired gently.

Monica just slowly shook her head no. "My husband was killed today, Rach. My unborn daughter is an orphan already. You wouldn't be okay."

"No, I... Of course not. But Monica, if you need to talk or... anything, I - I'm right here", she said, rubbing her friend's chilly arm.

"You can count on us", Ross chimed in.

"Thanks guys", she smiled feebly. "I... think I'm just gonna sleep now. I'm tired."

"Want us to stick around for awhile?", Phoebe offered.

"No thanks, I don't think that will be necessary. I have Rach."

"And you can call, Mon, any time. Okay?" That was Ross. It was breaking his heart to see Monica like that, but there was nothing he could do. The one person she ever truly loved was gone, he knew what that felt like. Except Chandler wasn't coming back, ever. Rachel still could.

~

Their bed had never felt so empty. Sure, he'd been away for months, but he'd never felt so far away. Probably because to her he'd never been away. Tonight when she looked at his side of the bed, she saw only the unwrinkled covers. Every tiny single fragment of hope, albeit utterly unlikely, that might have lingered for an eventual return, had now completely vanished. And before she knew it, a new stream of tears was running down her cheeks onto her stone-cold pillow in her stone-cold empty bed.

~

**__**

END PART 1...

Thankyou for reading, feedback is much appreciated. :) 

~Adeline.

[gossy@infonie.fr][1]

   [1]: mailto:gossy@infonie.fr



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